Is it a dream? Loopholes
by BlackCypress
Summary: An evening in Vash's room,a short conversation with Vash and Wolfwood. Inspired by too much caffine.


Trigun Loopholes  
  
We're all famillair with them. Or maybe we're not. Trigun does not belong to me. Not sure who owns it actually, just that its big time syndicated and funny. People tell me I'm a good writer. Im telling you now, this is not good writing. Dont read it.  
  
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Another long day going through the towns of Gunsmoke, saving kids, getting shot at, and just in general trying to seem like less of a man than he really was. As he pulled off his long red coat and eyed over the bullet holes that riddled it today, he moved to the wall and pulled open a small door. Behind it was a small pull down ironing board. He spread out the back of his coat over it and sighed. "When am I going to get a break?"  
  
Picking up a small pan of water from the corner with plans to do a little washing and mending of his coat, he was interrupted by a knock on his door. Ever cheerful twords people who might need him, even if he was tired, he moved to the door and opened it.  
  
"Hey noodle-head. I've got a bottle of wild turkey and the saloon's closing. Mind if I drink here?" Wolfwood grinned at the legendary gunman, ever colleting data on the man should the time come that he had to kill him. He'd seen this guy take bullets before and live through it, but he doubted Vash could live through everything.  
  
"Ah, er, well. I guess so. Just dont get drunk okay?" Vash gave him a weak grin and stepped aside, inviting the strange preist, his bottle and cross inside. Once he'd seen to him getting settled and opened a window for the smoke that was sure to follow, he bent back over his coat and reached for something. A blink when he found it wasnt there and he looked down. "Eh?"  
  
Wolfwood looked up fro pouring himself a glass of the gin ot going to drink from the bottle if he had to share at some point. "What's wrong?"  
  
Vash scratched his head slightly. "I could've sworn the iron was right here a minute ago."  
  
"And why would a lump of metal be what you were searching for, Vash?" Wolfwood rose a row as he scraped a bent cigarette out of his coat and placed it between his lips, looking for the lighter next.  
  
Vash gave Wolfwood an odd look. Wolfwood gave one right back.  
  
"I mean an Iron, Wolfwood. You know. You fill it up with water, plug it into the wall, it heats up and steams water onto your clothes. Gets the wrinkles out."  
  
The flint click of the lighter against compressed gas. Wolfwood lit his cig and took a drag off of it before responding. "You're a strange man, Vash."  
  
Vash frowned and turned, regarding the water, the pan, then the lack of the iron on the floor. A slow tingle crept down his spine as it just as slowly dawned on him. There werent an outlets in this room. Come to think of it, there werent any lamps either. It was dark outside, but perfectly visible and bright in here. His brows furrowed. "Wolfwood, something isnt right here."  
  
"You're telling me? Have you been hitting the sauce without telling me? Maybe I wont share this bottle."  
  
"No, no, I'm not drunk. My Iron is missing, theres no lamps in here, no outlets. Hmm. The plants are supposed to power and support the city, but have you ever wondered just how the go about doing it?"  
  
"Sounds like you've been thinking too much again, Vash. Here have some Gin and a smoke."  
  
Vash moved over, accepting the offered glass and sipped its contents, looking thoughtful. "Come to think of it, trees are really rare on Gunsmoke. So where are we getting wood for camp fires from?"  
  
Wolfwood blinked and rose a brow, deciding to play along with what must be an utterly drunk Vash. "Chopping down houses?"  
  
Vash shakes his head and sits next to Wolfwood, downing his Gin. "Wouldnt work, we'd have the same problem. Wood from houses has to come from somewhere, but all the trees are protcted because they take so long to grow. Where's it all come from?"  
  
Wolfwood smirks slightly. "We dont burn wood, Vash, you goof. Its all Bird-horse fecies. You know that, Noodle-noggin." He rolled his eyes and poured himself another drink.  
  
"Er. Okay. what about the beer then? Its made of barley and wheat and stuff, right? But making all this stuff, even with little water use, still takes a lot of feilds and alot of warter to grow, right? And SO many towns have seemingly endless amounts of booze. Where's it all coming from? I havnt seen an vinyards or massive farms of plants, have you?"  
  
Wolfwood gave Vash a tired look and refilled his glass. "Vash, the Plants support us with more than just power. They enrich the sand and soil too and make it all livable. Theres probably wheat feilds somewhere, you're just too buzy getting shot at all the time to notice."  
  
Vash sighed, looking like he was about to cave in when he blinked at his glass getting refilled. He lifted the item up and eyed it for a moment then stared at Wolfwood.  
  
"What?" The preist blinked, pausing, not sure what to make of that look.  
  
"Wolf.. Where did the glasses come from? You didnt walk in with them." Vash's eyes narrowed.  
  
"I.. Uh.." The preist flicked his gaze around. He could've sworn here was a mini-bar here a moment ago with spare glasses. And yet now that he looked, Vash was in far too dingy a room to ever have such a thing. "... I have no idea." He stopped to look at his glass, then Vash.  
  
The two men stared at eachother for a long moment. 


End file.
